


Gone Fishing

by enigmaticblue



Series: Sun 'Verse [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-07
Updated: 2010-10-07
Packaged: 2017-10-12 11:54:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/124568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's good fishing at White River.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gone Fishing

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Wild Card spot on my schmoop_bingo card. The prompt is "kidfic – vacation," and this is set pretty much right after the events of Somewhere Back of the Sun.

Ben threw the last bag into the back of the Willys and dusted off his hands. Behind him, his dad was moving the Impala out of the barn, and when Ben looked toward the porch, Cas was buttoning Cora’s jacket.

 

And Sam—Ben frowned. Howl had happily given Sam the time off so that he could go camping with the rest of them, which Ben supposed was a good thing. The younger kids still didn’t know about Sam’s aborted attempt to leave, and it was better that they didn’t.

 

Sam hadn’t left, and so it was like it had never happened, except for Ben.

 

He’d watched his dad and Sam drinking together that night from the barn; Ben didn’t understand how Dad could forgive that easily.

 

“Ben!” Ryan came running toward him, and Ben swung the boy up and around, used to the game by now. Both and Ryan and Cora took for granted that anyone bigger would roughhouse anytime they wished. “We’re going camping!”

 

“I got the memo,” Ben replied, laughing.

 

“What’s a memo?” Ryan asked.

 

Ben chuckled. “It’s a kind of message. Don’t worry about it. Who are you riding with?”

 

“You!” Ryan said.

 

“Get into the Jeep then,” Ben ordered.

 

“You want to drive?” his dad suggested, calling out to him.

 

Ben’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

 

“Take the keys,” Dad said. “Cora’s in the backseat with us, but you can take the rest of the tribe.”

 

Ben saw Sam get into the backseat of the Impala and wondered what he would have done if Sam had ridden with him. They hadn’t been alone together much, other than to sleep. Sam was still working long hours with Howl to prepare for the coming winter, and Sam returned to their shared room only to face plant on his bed and sleep until dawn, when he woke to do it all again.

 

Since a lot of Sam’s earnings were going to Dean—Ben had watched money and goods change hands—Ben couldn’t say a word against him. And Sam and his dad were speaking, sometimes even joking with one another, falling into a rhythm that Ben remembered from the first time he’d met them.

 

And even though the tension in the house had eased, Ben was grateful that he was riding with Mary, Henry, Casey and Ryan.

 

Mary climbed in the passenger seat, claiming it as her own by right of being next oldest. The younger kids piled in the back, squabbling good-naturedly over who would sit where while Scout tried to lick everyone’s face.

 

Ben fired up the Jeep and followed the Impala out of the yard and out onto the road. They drove slowly, and Ben only half-listened to the conversation between the three kids in the backseat. They were arguing over the comic books his dad and Cas had brought back from their last trip into the city.

 

“Batman is the coolest,” Henry insisted heatedly.

 

“I like Superman better,” Ryan replied. “He’s an alien, and the only thing that stops him is kryptonite.”

 

“Big deal,” Henry scoffed. “It’s a green rock. That’s lame.”

 

Ben shared a grin with Mary, who signed quickly where the others couldn’t see it. “Kids, huh?”

 

“Superman?” Casey asked from the middle seat.

 

Ryan and Henry stared at her, open-mouthed. “You don’t know who Superman is?” Henry asked.

 

Casey shrugged, looking as uncomfortable as she always did when she had to admit she didn’t know something. “I’ve been reading for school.”

 

“Oh, man,” Ryan said excitedly. “You don’t know _anything_.”

 

“She doesn’t know about comic books,” Ben corrected, sensing the incipient fight. “Not everybody likes comics, guys.”

 

“Everybody cool likes them,” Henry shot back.

 

Mary turned in her seat and quickly signed, “I’m cool, and I don’t like them.”

 

Henry ducked his head. No one liked to piss Mary off; she was the one who did most of the baking, and if Mary got angry with someone, their share of the sweets disappeared.

 

“So, who’s Superman?” Casey asked after a moment’s silence.

 

Henry perked up again immediately. “He’s an alien.”

 

Ben tuned out the explanation and glanced back over at Mary, who wore a satisfied grin. Of all of them, he and Mary were the closest. They were almost the same age, and she had been his best friend since Dean and Cas had brought her home.

 

As others his age left Cypress Grove, Ben had faced the fact that he would probably never leave. His family was too important; his dad needed him too badly.

 

But as long as Mary stayed, as long as Ben had his family, he thought he could be happy.

 

~~~~~

 

White River had some of the best fishing around, and Ben was an old hand at camping, since it was pretty much the only vacationing they did. He helped his dad and Sam unload the cars while Cas and Mary set up tents and the younger kids began collecting deadfall for firewood. Scout seemed to be everywhere at once, all long legs and big feet, barking her head off joyfully.

 

In an hour, they had managed to put up the three tents—one for the adults, one for the boys, and one for the girls—as well as an open-air tent for cooking. By the time Ben, Sam, and Dean had the bedrolls and mattress pads set up, Cas and Mary had a cook fire going with a grate set over it.

 

Ben knew from experience that Cas and Mary would have a dinner fit for a king and his court ready in under an hour.

 

He could cook when he had to; both Cas and Bobby—when he’d still been alive—had insisted that he learn. Ben preferred other chores, however, and Mary and Cas seemed to like cooking, so he didn’t have to do it often.

 

The younger kids were splashing at the edge of the river, Dean watching from his seat on a log with Sam next to him. Ben thought about joining them, but he didn’t want to interrupt, and he wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with Sam. Instead, he found a seat in the cook tent, where Cas and Mary were grilling.

 

“How’s it going?” he asked, settling down on a blanket near the fire.

 

“We should have dinner soon,” Cas replied with a smile.

 

“No rush,” Ben replied, stretching out with his hands behind his head. “It’s a nice night.”

 

“It is,” Cas agreed.

 

He heard a rustle, and Mary settled down next to him, her head resting on his chest, and Ben put an arm around her shoulders.

 

There weren’t a lot of girls his age in Cypress Grove, and he was definitely interested in girls. For a long time, he had wondered if he might be like his dad, interested in boys, but the guys he knew didn’t attract him nearly as much as Mary did.

 

It was a quiet sort of desire, though. Mary was his best friend—almost a sister—and while there might be someone he hadn’t met out there, Ben didn’t want to leave home.

 

Being with Mary would be perfect, Ben thought. He could stay with his family; there would be no need to leave, and they already knew each other inside and out.

 

The smell of cooking meat combined with the scent of fall—damp leaves, and water, and a crisp bite to the air that Ben couldn’t describe in words. Mary cuddled closer, presumably for warmth, and Ben held her close, listening to Cas rustling around.

 

These were the sounds of his childhood, he thought. He still remembered his mom; Ben remembered how she’d kissed his forehead and smoothed his hair as she’d tucked him in at night. He remembered the taste of her garlic chicken, and how she’d listened to him talking about his day at the kitchen table.

 

Sometimes, though, Ben had a hard time remembering what she looked like, the sound of her voice, or the smell of the perfume she infrequently wore. He thought it unfair that he had no trouble recalling the scent of her blood and decaying flesh as she lay dead on the mattress in their basement, or the sound her breath had made, rattling in her lungs as she died.

 

There were a lot of unfair things in life; he’d learned that early as the world disintegrated around him.

 

But in the end, his dad and Cas had been there, and while his dad had been sick—and almost dying—Cas and Bobby had watched out for him.

 

“Go call Dean and the others,” Cas said after a while. “We’re ready to eat.”

 

Dinner consisted of sausages, potatoes roasted in the coals, and grilled vegetables, the last of the bounty from their garden. Everyone had the chance to eat until they were full, and Ben leaned back, watching the flames and listening to his family chat idly around the fire.

 

This was the best part of family vacations, Ben thought: everybody together, with nowhere else to be. For the moment, his life was as good as it got.

 

~~~~~

 

By the time Ben emerged from their tent early the next morning, Henry was already casting his line into the river. Henry had a dedication to fishing like Ben had to hunting, and he was good at it, too.

 

Henry cast his line upriver, allowing the lure to be carried downstream before reeling it in and beginning again. Ben grabbed a pole and began doing the same downstream. Henry sent a grin in Ben’s direction and kept fishing.

 

The others emerged from their tents one at a time; Mary got the fire going again and set a cast-iron pan on the grate over the flames. Ben knew that meant pancakes, but he kept fishing. Lunch and dinner both would probably be fish, and that meant catching as many as they could.

 

Besides, Ben had a record to defend.

 

He stuck his pole in the sandy bank a half hour later, having caught only two trout big enough to keep. Mary was dishing up pancakes several at a time, and other than Henry, everybody else had already eaten.

 

Mary handed him a plate with half a dozen stacked pancakes, and Ben drizzled syrup over the whole thing. They didn’t get pancakes unless they were camping, and syrup was a rarity. Ben dug in with enthusiasm, grinning and calling out, “Good stuff, Mary!”

 

She sent a smile his way as she drizzled another ladleful into the hot pan. His dad and Cas were nowhere to be seen, which meant that they had probably “taken a walk”—something that seemed to happen a lot when they were camping.

 

Ben didn’t mind, really. His dad and Cas did a lot for them, they worked hard, and this was their vacation, too.

 

Sam was soon helping the little kids bait their hooks downstream while Henry and Ben continued fishing, leaving the fish they caught on a line in the water. When Ben glanced back towards the cook tent, Mary was lying on her stomach, reading a book. He smiled, knowing that she didn’t often have the time when they were back at home.

 

His dad and Cas reappeared around noon, just in time for the PB&J sandwiches that Mary and Sam assembled in short order.

 

Time always seemed to take on a different quality when they camped, moving both slower and faster, all at once.

 

His dad and Cas sat hunched together on a log after lunch, shoulder-to-shoulder and thigh-to-thigh. Cas said something that made his dad laugh, and Ben put his pole down, only half-watching his line. The younger kids were playing a game on the bank; Ben had heard only half the rules, so he wasn’t sure what was going on, and he didn’t want to know.

 

For the first time in a while, Ben was completely content.

 

“Hey.” Ben glanced up, craning his neck to meet Sam’s eyes. “Is this seat taken?” Sam asked.

 

“No, go ahead.” Ben shrugged, hoping to shrug off any discomfort he felt at Sam’s appearance.

 

“Here.” Sam handed him a bottle, cool and wet from being submerged in the river with the rest of the drinks they’d wanted to keep chilled.

 

Ben stared at the bottle of Coke Sam held out. “Coke? Where did you get this?”

 

“Howl had it,” Sam replied. “I traded him for it.”

 

Ben shook his head. “The others—”

 

“They’ve got theirs, and Dean and Cas didn’t want any. They have what they need.”

 

Ben looked over his shoulder, watching as Mary sipped from her bottle, while Henry, Casey, Ryan and Cora passed one around between them. “But—”

 

“It’s a treat for them,” Sam said quietly. “They aren’t used to drinking it.”

 

“No, I guess not.” Ben hesitated only a moment longer before taking a drink. The Coke tasted just like he remembered—sweet and fizzy—and he closed his eyes in pleasure. “I’m not going to forgive you just because you bring me Coke,” Ben added after he swallowed.

 

“I know that,” Sam assured him. “I just—I know things can’t be like they were before, but I’d like to get to a point where we’re okay.”

 

Ben thought about it. “You punched my dad.”

 

“I apologized,” Sam protested. “More or less.”

 

Ben grinned before he could help himself. “You still hit him.”

 

Sam fell silent, running a hand through his hair. “Dean said something—I had a girl, you know?”

 

Ben remained quiet, just to see what Sam would say.

 

“I had a girl, and a job—even if it wasn’t much—and she got pregnant.” Sam didn’t look at Ben. “And then she died, and so did my kid. Dean said something about me not understanding family, and I do. Even if I don’t always understand _him_ , I understand how important family is.”

 

Ben decided not to point out that Sam was ready to leave his family.

 

“I was angry,” Sam continued. “But I’m staying. I’d like for us to be friends.”

 

“You’re family,” Ben admitted reluctantly. “It doesn’t matter if we’re friends.”

 

“It matters to me.” Sam offered a rueful smile, and then rose, leaving Ben to contemplate the flowing river.

 

~~~~~

 

There was nothing better than freshly caught fish, roasted over the coals, Ben thought as he licked his fingers. Between him and Henry, they’d caught enough trout to feed everyone. Once everyone had eaten—the little ones first, then the rest of them—they chased each other along the bank of the river in a game of tag, with Scout at their heels.

 

Dean and Sam had joined in, and Cas sat down next to Ben, his eyes fixed on the flames.

 

Ben had never been able to come up with the words that would describe what Cas was to him. No one could take the place of his mom, and he had a dad, which left Cas in an unknown category—not a father, not a mother, not an uncle.

 

Cas had, instead, been the person who soothed his nightmares while his dad lay sick. Ben had eaten the results of Cas’ first attempts at cooking, and he’d watched as Cas ran himself ragged, running from Dean’s bedside to Ben’s to Bobby’s when they’d all been sick at once.

 

Before—before the apocalypse, and his mom’s death, and _everything_ —Ben had known a kid with two moms. Jeff hadn’t been a friend, but Ben still remembered asking his mom about it, and he remembered her answer. “When two people love each other,” she’d said, “it doesn’t matter if it’s a man and a woman, or two men, or two women. Someday, when you’re older, maybe you’ll fall in love with a man. Maybe you’ll fall in love with a woman. It’s doesn’t matter.”

 

Ben didn’t know what it meant that he’d sort of fallen for Mary. Maybe _that_ didn’t matter either.

 

What Ben did know for certain was that he could say anything to Cas and not worry about being judged. Or he could say nothing at all, and Cas wouldn’t mind that either.

 

“You shouldn’t be angry with Sam on Dean’s behalf.” Cas broke the comfortable silence between them, something Ben wasn’t used to. “Your father and Sam—their relationship is complicated.”

 

Ben frowned. “You’re not angry?”

 

Cas stared into the flames. “Your father and Sam used to be as close as you and Mary are now,” he said carefully. “Dean missed Sam all these years, and Sam suffered a great deal. One might even say that Sam has suffered enough.”

 

“Would you say that?” Ben challenged, knowing that Cas would tell him the truth.

 

Neither Cas nor his dad was big on talking about feelings. The difference was that Cas would talk, if prodded. His dad would change the subject or run away.

 

“Sam believed he had lost everything,” Cas replied instead of answering the question directly. “What would you do if you thought your entire family was gone, and nothing would bring them back?”

 

Ben winced at the mere thought; he didn’t think he’d survive the reality. “I don’t know,” he admitted finally.

 

“Sam is all your dad has left of the time before,” Cas finally said.

 

“He has you,” Ben objected reflexively.

 

Cas shook his head. “I came after.” He rose from his position next to Ben and joined in the game being played on the riverbank.

 

Ben just watched, listening to the shouts of joy, knowing that without his dad, without his brothers and sisters, his life would be an empty wasteland stretching before him. Maybe, facing that wasteland, Ben wouldn’t know what to do with abundance.

 

He remembered his dad and Cas putting together a meal for a woman and her children who had come begging. They had warned her to eat slowly, because too much food would make them sick after so long with so little.

 

Maybe being with them had been like that for Sam—maybe it had been too much, too quick, and Sam had gotten spooked.

 

It was a new perspective, and one that Ben would have to consider.

 

~~~~~

 

Ben glanced down the back where Sam sat cross-legged next to Cora and Ryan, who seemed to be building a miniature mud hut. When Ben had been that little, he’d had TV and video games and sports equipment. Ryan and Cora had a few toys—things his dad had purchased on one of his trips to the city, or made by someone or other—but mostly they had each other and whatever they made up.

 

Ben had to admit that Sam was good with them, now that he’d decided to stay, and had settled in.

 

“You ready to go?” his dad asked, a rifle over his shoulder, and a walking stick in one hand.

 

Ben noted how relaxed his dad looked, how the lines around his mouth and eyes had eased. A smile played around the corners of his dad’s mouth, and he looked younger. “You sure your leg is up for it?”

 

His dad nodded at the walking stick. “Cas insisted. I’ll be fine.”

 

They ambled through the underbrush, looking for a good place to hunt. Ben had seen more than a dozen wild turkeys on their way to the camping site, and he was hopeful that they’d have some success.

 

“You enjoying the trip?” his dad asked softly after they’d been walking awhile.

 

Ben smiled. “Yeah. It’s been good.”

 

“I saw you talking to Sam. You two okay?”

 

Ben sighed. “I’m not really mad at him. I just—do you trust him?”

 

His dad was quiet for a long moment. “Yeah. When Sam makes up his mind to do something, there isn’t anything that will stop him. He’s decided to stay.”

 

“I guess.”

 

“Something else bothering you?”

 

Ben shook his head. “No. I’m good.”

 

His dad smiled at him, sunlight glinting off the silver strands in his hair and beard. “Good.”

 

~~~~~

 

Their fishing trips never lasted long enough in Ben’s opinion. No sooner had they settled into the rhythm of camp life than they were packing up to go home.

 

In just the few days they’d been at White River, though, the nights had begun getting considerably colder. There had been a hard frost and a dusting of snow on the tents the morning they’d planned to head back to Cypress Grove.

 

This time, the younger kids were clamoring to ride in the Impala as Ben finished loading up the Jeep. “We want to go with you, Papa Cas!” Ryan said.

 

Ben saw the look that his dad and Cas exchanged, and he knew they were trying to figure out how to minimize squabbling on the drive back. Ben glanced over at Sam, who had his hands shoved in his pockets and was looking off into the distance, as though he didn’t want to get involved.

 

“Uncle Sam,” Ben called, and when Sam looked over, he tossed the keys to the Jeep. “You think you can drive back?”

 

Sam snatched the keys out of the air, and a tentative smile broke out. “I’m assuming you’re calling shotgun.”

 

“I _am_ the oldest,” Ben replied, ignoring Henry’s cries of it being unfair that Ben _always_ got to ride up front, and Casey’s scowl and promises of retribution.

 

Instead, Ben focused on the approving smile Cas gave him, and the pride on his dad’s face. This was his family, he thought, and Ben wouldn’t change a thing.


End file.
